Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The helicopter flying time from Hudson Island to Blanchard Bay was roughly thirty-six minutes.
With the snowstorm wreaking havoc on the Pacific Northwest, the flight time should have been longer, and maybe even impossible for some.
Luckily for Xander, their pilot was Hadley Owen, and she made it over with eight members of Hudson Security in twenty-three minutes.
Owen landed in the middle of a street two blocks down from Axel’s house, and everyone—minus Frazier—quickly gathered around the kitchen island waiting for next steps.
Frazier was busy smoothing out the ruffled feathers of the Blanchard Bay PD.
However, seeing as one of their own was injured, and their detective’s sister had been abducted, BBPD’s police chief was being surprisingly accommodating.
“Bingo,” Bean said, her attention focused on her laptop. “I got the plate off that black Hyundai Sonata. Just give me two more seconds.”
Xander’s heart raced. Please, Bean. Please find her.
“How?” Police Chief Horowitz asked as he entered the kitchen with Frazier. She glanced up and pierced him with a look that had him clearing his throat. “Forget I asked. In fact, forget I’m here.”
Esme patted him on the shoulder. “Smart man. I also suggest you not hear or see anything that happens while we’re here.”
He nodded, his eyes wide. “Of course, ma’am. We’re here to assist.”
“We appreciate that,” Frazier said, moving to stand behind Bean.
“Timothy McAllen,” Bean said. “Thirty-one. Six feet. One-eighty. Resident of Blanchard Bay.” She glanced at the police chief and rattled off a local address.
He immediately shook his head. “No. That’s not a viable address. There was a house fire there three or four years ago. The owners never rebuilt.”
“That’s right. It was a really bad electrical fire,” Jasper said.
“We were working with the owners on the rebuild design. An elderly couple. They decided to take the insurance money and move to Arizona instead. But they weren’t McAllen .
. .” His eyes narrowed in thought. “I could have sworn they mentioned a grandson or something?”
“I’ll run a search on their family and other residents at that address,” Bean murmured, her fingers swift as she typed.
Esme turned to him. “Did you give Freya any kind of tracking device? Jewelry or a tracker for her shoes?”
Xander shook his head, anger at himself building for not having done so. “I should have though.”
“Don’t start that game, brother,” Wilson said from beside him. “You didn’t want to push too hard, and there’s not a damn thing wrong with that.”
“Except she’s missing, and we can’t fucking find her.”
Wilson’s hand slapped down on his shoulder. “We will. Hold it the fuck together.”
A soft gasp filled the near-silent room, and all eyes swung to the little girl in her uncle’s arms standing in the kitchen entry. “He said the two-dollar naughty word, Uncle Finn.”
“That’s right, Josie baby,” Finn said, running a hand over her dark hair. “I’ll make sure he puts his two dollars in the jar.”
“Sorry about that, little one,” Wilson said, shooting her a wink.
“S’okay. Do you know where my daddy is?”
Xander’s gut twisted.
“Remember, sweetie, your daddy got hurt and he had to go to the hospital real quick,” Finn said, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s sleeping right now, so we have to wait until tomorrow to see him.”
Axel was currently in surgery. His skull had been cracked, and according to Oscar, who’d accompanied him to the hospital, the doctors needed to remove a section of his skull to relieve the pressure. The next forty-eight hours were going to be rough.
“If Daddy’s hurt, how did he get to the hospital?”
Finn cleared his throat. “He got to ride in the ambulance.”
She smiled. “Lucky ducky. That’s way more fun than driving.”
“Yeah, lucky.” Finn sighed, pressed a kiss to his niece’s temple, and froze. His gaze swung to Xander. “You said Freya was wearing one of Axel’s garage jackets, right?”
The hairs on Xander’s arms lifted. “Yeah . . .”
“Were there keys in the pocket?”
His heart rate picked up speed. “I don’t know.”
“Shit, hang on.” He winced as he bolted to the garage with Josie on his hip. “I’ll put extra money in the bad-word jar, sweetie.” Seconds later, he was back and set Josie on her feet. “I’ll give you extra dessert for a week if you can find your dad’s phone for me. Go!”
When the girl zoomed out of the kitchen calling her sister’s name, Finn turned to them.
“Axel has a Tile tracker on all his keys. Since the girls like to ‘help’ him in the garage, they always end up losing his keys. So Ax has like five or six key fobs. He keeps a set of keys in his smoking jackets as backup because the girls can’t reach those.”
“Holy shit,” Xander said on an exhale. “If Freya still has that jacket on . . .”
“We’ll find her, brother,” Wilson repeated. “Hang in there.”
Fifty-five minutes.
It took Bean five minutes to pinpoint the Tile tracker on Axel’s keys and cross-reference it to a remote cabin at the edge of Blanchard Bay.
It took fifteen minutes to get the team geared up and loaded, and because of the cabin’s particular location, they had to drive, which took another thirty-five minutes.
Once there, they waited for Bean’s thermal drones for more intel. Xander had thought the drive over had been the longest wait of his life. Nope. Not even close.
“Confirming two heat signatures,” Bean’s steady voice said over their comms. “One moving, one stationary. Stationary is seated. It’s a one-room cabin. Door facing south with only two windows facing east and west.”
“Alpha Two and Three, you’re flash-bangs through the east and west,” Alpha One—Frazier—said.
“Hold your positions and make sure he doesn’t try to slip out.
Alpha Four, you’re along the north in case there’s an exit we don’t know about.
The rest of us will breach through the south door. Acknowledge.”
A chorus of “copy” sounded over the comms.
“Alpha Seven. Not you. You hang back. We’ll signal you to retrieve the package when it’s clear. Confirm.”
Every part of Xander wanted to rebel, to tell Frazier to fuck off.
That Freya wasn’t a package. That he was going to be the first person to enter that damn cabin to get his woman back.
But he knew those were his erratic emotions talking.
He was currently a loose cannon and that put Freya and his teammates in danger.
Unacceptable.
He let out a deep exhale. “Copy.”
“On my mark,” Bean said. “Ten, nine, eight . . .”
As she counted off in their ears, everyone moved into position. The whistling wind camouflaged the crunching of their boots in the snow.
At mark, all hell broke loose.
The sound was deafening, and Xander could only watch as Alpha One, Five, and Six breached the cabin.
He wasn’t a praying man, but he sent a prayer up to the universe that Freya was alive.
That’s all he wanted. He’d help her through the trauma, but he just needed her alive.
Because he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
“Alpha Seven,” Frazier said over the comms. “Come get your girl.”
He’d never moved so fast in his life. As he rushed toward the cabin, he paid no mind to the screaming man lying face down in the doorway, easily pinned by Alpha Six, Wilson.
When Xander neared the doorway, there was a loud thud. The man fell silent.
“Shit, I slipped,” Wilson said, straightening. He shrugged as he moved to the side to allow Xander to pass. “Don’t worry, though, the fucker’s still breathing.”
Xander rushed past and quickly scanned the small room. His breath left in a painful whoosh when he spotted her. His Freya.
She was seated in a recliner, her wrists and ankles shackled.
Her shirt was torn open, split down the center.
There were a handful of small cuts along her arms and chest, but only a small amount of blood dotted her skin.
Blood streamed down both sides of her face, and her left eye was swelling shut.
He’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his goddamn life.
“You’re here,” she said, her voice a raspy whisper. “You found me.”
He was beside her in an instant. “I’ll always find you, baby. No matter what. I’d never stop looking for you. Ever.”
He went to press a kiss to her lips, but she quickly turned her head, and his lips met her cheek. “Baby?”
“I threw up all over myself. He was going to cut me up and . . .” A sob tore through her.
His heart ached. No matter what, he’d help her work through this.
Taking care, he wrapped his arms around her as best he could. “It’s okay, Frey. I’ve got you.” He glanced down at Alpha Five—Carmichael—who’d just unlocked her ankle shackles. “How much longer?”
His friend glanced up and gave Freya’s knee a gentle pat. “We’ve all got you, darlin’. Just give me a couple more seconds, and I’ll get your hands free.”
Less than a minute later, the shackles hit the ground. Carmichael straightened and pulled an emergency blanket from one of his pockets. “Here, man.”
“Thanks, brother,” he said, his attention never leaving Freya.
“Xander?”
Her scratchy voice killed him. “Yeah, baby?”
“My head hurts. I think I have a concussion.”
He ran his hand softly over her shoulder, afraid to hurt her any more than she was. “I think you do too.” He opened the foil emergency blanket and draped it over her front. “I’m going to carry you out of here, okay? There’s an ambulance waiting.”
“No.” She groaned. “I don’t want to throw up on you.”
“Freya, sweetheart, you can puke all over me if you need to. I don’t care about that. I love you no matter what.”
She let out a tiny gasp, and her eyes flew open. “Really?”
He met her slightly unfocused gaze. “Really. Now close your eyes again, because I’m gonna lift you up. You might get dizzy.”
“M’kay, but only if you’re sure.”
Gently lifting her out of the recliner, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m absolutely sure I love you.”
He smiled as she tucked her head against his neck and sighed. “Just so you know, concussion or not, I love you too.”
His soul settled, and everything clicked into place. This woman was his everything. And he was never letting her go.